


The Ambition to Succeed

by orphan_account



Series: The Ambition to Succeed [1]
Category: study island english assessment question number 5
Genre: M/M, Sibling Incest, ayyyyyyyy, brothercest, carpentercest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-04
Updated: 2013-12-04
Packaged: 2018-01-03 12:17:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1070380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>so there was this question on a test saying how these two brothers were polar opposites and I dig brothercest so I wrote a fic about them and it kind of got out of hand but it will probably end up becoming a verse. The last name is original since I was only given the names Peter and Robert on the question.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Ambition to Succeed

               A flash of pain hit him suddenly, a throbbing ache was settling into his right forearm from where it had hit the desk on his way down. This was actually pretty normal for Rob, the nights he’ll spend hunched over his laptop and planner were getting more and more frequent as the deadline for his presentation for the company came closer. He opened his eyes slowly, squinting against the light shining through the windows of the loft, and unfortunately the sharp pain happened to be his hand that had fallen asleep. Rob groaned, sitting up and using the other hand to rub away the pins and needles with strong but uncalloused fingers. Heavy steps approached him as he attempted to hoist himself back into the desk chair.

“Again?” the sleep rough voice of his brother called out.

“You know it, Pete.”

Finally succeeding in the task of getting into his chair, he leaned his elbows against the desk and leant his head into his hands, fingers combing through the tangled brown strands.

“You need to rest, Rob, honestly, you really don’t need to do all this work. It’s just a fucking presentation. You’re only 27, running yourself ragged like this. Is that a grey hair?” Robert felt his brother’s hand poke at a spot on his temple. He snorted in indignation, releasing his head and leaning back in his chair.

“You wouldn’t understand. You aren’t the Vice President of an international corporation.”

“Excuse me, I believe being head manager at Starbucks is a very important job.” Peter retorts, dark blue eyes flashing with mirth.  “Where would you get all that free coffee that keeps you running on empty without me?”

“Where would you be living without me?”

“Oh, touché.” His full lips turn up into a smirk before looking down at his brother with sympathy in his eyes. “You look like shit, bro, go take a shower.”

Rob groaned, closing his eyes. “I’ll fall asleep in the shower then we’ll have a huge water bill. I’ll stay disgusting. Thanks, by the way, love you too.”

Peter rolled his eyes, turning into the kitchen and starting up a pot of coffee. “Then I’ll wake you up, and forcibly place you into the shower. I’m not living in the same apartment as some rank businessman who doesn’t know where his bed is.”

“Too late for that” Rob called out, standing up to go lean heavily against the counter in their kitchen and yawning. Peter stretched, arms going behind his back as he cracked his neck, and Rob watched, mesmerized by the planes of leans muscle coiled beneath his brother’s pale skin, clad only in flannel pajama bottoms.

 He felt his face heating up, arousal and shame firing up in his belly. He’s been getting so good at hiding his sin in his bones, this never ending want for his brother ever since college when he’d walked into their dorm at the time, stumbling drunk, to his brother jerking off on the couch. The deep moans that were tearing through his throat as his hand worked torturously slowly at his cock, beads of sweat dripping from the short strands of his dark brown hair down his forehead. God, Robert had just stood there, frozen to the spot, until his brother’s hips had started thrusting jerkily off the couch, his moans getting higher pitched. Rob had shaken himself off and made his way to his room, burying his head in his hands at the guilt of watching that and getting off. He tried to blame it on the amount of drinks he’d had, but he still will cry out his brother’s name at night, the sheets sticky when he wakes up. Three years of holding himself back because it’s wrong wrong so wrong.

 _It’s his brother._ The little boy who would come to him every time he scraped his knee and asked for him to kiss it better. They were born the same year, and mother used to tell Robert that he would share a crib with Peter when they couldn’t afford another one. Peter, who he used to share his peanut butter and jelly sandwich with every day at lunch in elementary school.  Who stood by him at mother’s funeral in sophomore year, tears falling silently from his eyes.

He shook himself out of his fantasies, feeling a warm mug being pressed into his hands.

“Come on, Robby, drink up. Let’s get you cleaned up so we can head out to lunch. I personally am taking you away from that godforsaken computer and giving you a break today.”

He opened his mouth to protest but his brother pushed his mug up to his lips, silencing him. “I don’t want to hear a thing. This is the third night in a row you’ve passed out at that desk. May as well start bringing you a pillow or just move your bed out here, for chrissakes.”

Rob took a sip of the scalding, bitter liquid, slowly gaining his awareness back. Peter was leaning against the counter next to him, their shoulders jostling every once in a while, simply enjoying the other’s presence. He thought he would get sick of it, living with his brother and being around him every day, but honestly he really doesn’t. He loves his brother, even if they are practically polar opposites. ‘Like a yin yang, dude, we just fit’, Peter had said to him one day. While Rob is constantly planning ahead and preparing, ambition driving him forward; Peter just wanted to live in the now, just fly by on life and enjoy it. They kept each other sane. And Rob kept the bills paid for their expensive California loft in Santa Barbara.

Once both of their mugs were drained twice over, Peter had both his hands on Rob’s shoulders and was pushing him towards their bathroom.

“Shower time, come on, man.”

Rob allowed himself to be pushed along, pretending to resist. When they entered the bathroom Peter turned on the water of their shower, and came back to lift the hem of Rob’s shirt up. He shivered at his brother’s calloused hands brushing along his skin, face flushing bright red but lifted his arms up and let Peter take his shirt off.

“I, uh, think I can take it from here, Pete. Thanks. I’ll, uh, be out in a few.”

His brother was biting his lip softly, eyes flickering down to Rob’s chest a few times before nodding and going to head out of the bathroom.

“Uh, yeah sure, I’ll be in my room.”

Robert hurriedly rushed through his shower, scrubbing at the tangles in the thickness of his hair and furiously attempting to not get a hard on for his brother-like he usually does. Just what was up with the taking off his shirt for him? Robert gave up on hoping his brother was a sick freak like him after a while. He was just being a good brother, Rob concluded. He turned off the hot water and stepped out into the frigid bathroom, gooseflesh rising up all over himself before grabbing the soft, fluffy bath towel hanging up. Scrubbing at his hair, he walked out and tied the towel around his waist so he could go get dressed for their lunch together. _God, Robert, get your head screwed on straight,_ _it’s not like this is a date with your brother._ They went out for lunch all the time. Actually, now that he thought more about it, since Rob’s promotion, they haven’t had a nice sit down lunch together. The thought made him frown, god, Pete’s probably wanted to hang out with him for lunch or just in general for a while now. He’s been so wrapped up in all this work they’ve hardly said a few words to each other besides the mornings before they both rush out. He really felt like shit now.

He threw on some nice jeans and a button up and headed over to Pete’s room, where he was just finishing the last button on a dark green Henley.

“You clean up good, Petey. Lookin’ sharp.”

Peter turned around, a smile lighting up his face. It was so fucking beautiful.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Rob looked down bashfully at the compliment and felt his brother entering his space. They were pretty much the same height, but Peter probably had an inch on him. Rob’s hazel eye’s searched his brother’s, admiring the sharp angles of his face and inhaling the heady scent of his cologne. “You, uh, know where we’re going for lunch yet?”

Peter reached between them and Rob felt his brother fixing a button near his stomach. “Hmm, maybe that sandwich shop down on State Street?”

Robert could feel heat bursting everywhere he felt his brother touching him, the mintiness of his breath washing over his face as he tediously worked on fixing the buttons Rob had carelessly put together.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” For some reason it came out as a whisper. There was less than a foot of space between them now, and Robert’s heart was hammering in his chest so hard he swore Pete could hear it. Pete would probably be able to feel it if he moved up to the buttons over his chest, and feel the heat of the blood rising to his skin.

“When you gonna fuckin learn how to button your shirt, Robby, it’s like junior prom all over again.” Pete had whispered back, smoothing out the front of his shirt, making Rob shiver.

“Good thing you always got my back, bro.”

Peter smiled up at him, before his eyes widened a bit, seemingly noting their close proximity now. The dark blue flashed down to his lips a few times, and Rob couldn’t help but lick over them self-consciously.

“You know it.” Peter said, then gently raised a hand to the back of Rob’s head, tangling the tips of his fingers in the damp strands at the nape of his neck, pressing their foreheads together. Rob’s blood was practically pounding in his ears by now, one of his hands unconsciously going to his brother’s hip to steady himself. “Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this, Rob, please” Peter whispered, his breath warm over Rob’s lips.

“Fuck, fuck, no, no you’re not.” And with that Peter had used the hand on Rob’s neck to push their lips together, Robert inhaling against them in shock. His mind was racing a thousand ways, but mostly it was all just a haze of _peterpeterpeterpeter_ and fuck their lips were just brushing against each other’s, like he was hesitating, waiting for Rob to take the first step.

So he did. The hand on Peter’s hip ran to the small of his back, pushing their bodies together as he sucked his brother’s bottom lip into his mouth, lightly biting at the soft flesh there. Peter made a sound in the back of his throat, bringing his other hand up to cradle Robert’s face, kissing back and forcing his brother’s mouth open so their tongues could tentatively brush against each other’s. It was all toothpaste and stale coffee but everything was just _Peter_ and it was perfect.

Rob lost track how long they stood there kissing, his hand wandering up his brother’s shirt and stroking the soft skin on the small of his back, their mouths moving sensually over each other’s, tongues occasionally gliding over a lip or the backs of teeth. But they eventually pulled apart slowly, their lips making a wet pop as they parted. Peter’s hands were still holding his face, and his mouth was shining with spit and kiss-swollen, slightly open in disbelief. Rob stared, eyes wide, his heart slowly trying to get to a normal pace again, yet still waiting for the backlash. _He just made out with his brother. His brother. Ah, fuck._

Peter slowly removed his hands from Rob’s face, placing them at his sides. “So, how about those sandwiches?”

Robert blinked a few times, trying to make sense of anything that just happened.

“Yeah, Pete, I’d like that.”

If the hand Peter kept on his back the whole walk to the car was any indication of where they stood, then Rob didn’t regret a thing. And maybe he was for once in his life anticipating something other than working on that presentation when they got home.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the answer to the question on the test. (yes i got it right)


End file.
